I Won't Tell Them Your Name
by SodasRockMyParty
Summary: Jason Reso reflects on some memories made by him and a former lover.


**Title:** I Won't Tell Them Your Name  
**Author:** [Nova][1]  
**Category:** Point-of-View  
**Archive:** With Permission  
**Rating:** R  
**Warnings:** Angst, Slash, Language  
**Disclaimer:** Christian is a trademark of WWF/Titan Sports. Jason Reso does **not** belong to me except in the deep recesses of my mind and dreams! Christian is being used **without** permission. The purpose of this fic is for entertainment purposes only; no money is being made. The song, "Close My Eyes Forever," is credited to Ozzy Osbourne and Lita Ford.  
**Author's Notes:** Wow, I used to try and try to write wrestling slash, and I couldn't do it to save my life. Now, it's hard to write a het fic anymore, all I can do is slash! Anyways, hope you enjoy this little fic.  
**Characters:** Christian, Secret Other Character  
**Summary:** Jason reflects on some of the memories and moments made between a former lover and himself.  
  
I had a boyfriend once, but you're gone now. I loved you, too; I stil do. But now you're gone, gone forever, but nobody will ever know about us, I promise. We promised then that we wouldn't tell anyone each other's names. And I won't tell them your name. I promise. Because if I did, it would destroy everything that you've earned recently, and as much as I wish you were still mine, I don't want to hurt you.  
We would both openly admit we were emotionally attached to someone, but when asked the names of our significant others, we would simply smile and say that we would rather not say; that it was, "To protect the innocent," we would say, laughing.  
What happened to you was good, at least for you, and most of the world. But to me, it was the beginning of the end. I have to face the realization that you're gone now, gone for good. I suppose all I have left are the memories of all the yesterdays past, when we were unbreakable.  
Totally unbreakable.  
I can't believe that something that was once so unbreakable was shattered in a one, two, three.  
I remember the day that we realized our feelings for each other... it was the best day of my life. I called out your name from down the street where we lived at the time, and you came jogging up to me. Wow, you were beautiful, running up the street, your beautiful golden hair shimmering underneath the sunlight, and your tanned, shirtless chest glistening with the sweat from the heat of the Florida summer day. But I had to keep calm, at least until I found the right moment to tell you that I was in love with you.  
I said your name.  
"What's up," you asked after jogging up to me.  
"I have to tell you something. But you have to promise not to hate me for it if you think it's gross."  
"I'd never hate you, Jay. I've been your friend for so long, you should know that by now."  
"I know, but this is more serious than the other stuff."  
"Well, what is it then?"  
I gulped.  
"Remember the other day when I told you I was gay?"  
"Yeah, what of it?"  
"Well," I swallowed, "I think I'm in love with you."  
You stopped breathing for a minute. I thought you were going to drop out in the middle of the street from shock.  
But then you smiled.  
"Really?"  
I shook my head yes, staring down at the ground, ready to face what would certainly be rejection.  
But then you pushed the hair out of my face, and tilted my chin up.  
And then you kissed me.  
It was the biggest shock of my life, and I thought I was now going to drop out in the middle of the street from shock.  
When the kiss broke, you looked into my eyes, and into my soul.  
"What made you do that?" I whispered.  
"I love you, too. I have since the day we met."  
It was then that I knew you were my soul mate.  
I'll never love someone again as much as I loved you. As much as I _still_ love you.  
Because you were my everything.  
_ "Baby,  
I get so scared inside and I don't really understand;  
is it love that's on my mind or is it fantasy?  
Heaven,   
is in the palm of my hand and it's waiting here for you;  
what am I supposed to do with a childhood tragedy?  
  
If I close my eyes forever,  
will it all remain unchanged?   
If I close my eyes forever,  
will it all remain the same?   
  
Sometimes,  
it's hard to hold on,  
so hard to hold on to my dreams.  
It isn't always what it seems   
when you're face to face with me.   
You're like a dagger,   
and stick me in the heart   
and taste the blood from my blade.  
And when we sleep,  
would you shelter me   
in your warm and darkened grave?  
  
If I close my eyes forever,  
will it all remain unchanged?   
If I close my eyes forever,   
will it all remain the same?   
  
Will you ever take me?  
No, I just can't take the pain.  
But would you ever trust me?   
No, I'll never feel the same, oh.   
  
I know I've been so hard on you;  
I know I've told you lies.   
If I could have just one more wish,  
I'd wipe the cobwebs from my eyes.   
  
If I close my eyes forever,  
will it all remain unchanged?   
If I close my eyes forever,   
will it all remain the same?"  
  
_ That was our song, remember? We would listen to it on the radio while we talked; for hours and hours, we would just lay on the bed and talk to each other. But now it seems like my life revolves around that song. I ask those same two questions every day... "If I close my eyes forever, will it all remain unchanged? If I close my eyes forever, will it all remain the same?" I wonder if I _did_ close my eyes forever, if things would go back to the way they used to be; if you would feel love for me again if I died, and if you would feel bad for leaving me after you won all those competitions and matches... I can see you from where I sit right now, you know. You're so beautiful, shimmering with that gold around your waist. Something that I'll probably never have again. It's not that I'm not happy for you; I probably deserve this for being such a smart ass and for being so damn hard on you at work. I just wish I could go back and apologize for everything... but we haven't spoken in nearly a month now. Like a photograph from years ago, just tossed to the side and forgotten after newer, better pictures were taken. That's how I think of our love. You probably think of it as... hell, you probably don't even give it a second thought anymore. I wish you still thought about it, about us. But no, you've moved on to bigger and better things, like Championships and tournament wins and your new WWF Champion boyfriend, Chris Jericho. You even took him to the same spot on the beach where you and I would spend hours watching the water and swimming and having picnics, as if we were on our own little world. But you brought him in, and pushed me out. I remember the first time we went to that spot on the beach... you called me at about eleven at night. I thought you were crazy, but you made it worth it.  
"Hello?" I said after stretching across to the other side of my bed to answer the ringing phone.  
"Hey, baby! What are you doing?"  
I smiled when I heard the sunshine of your voice pour through the telephone reciever.  
"Hey," I whispered. "What are you doing calling so late? Are you crazy?" I said jokingly.  
"Nah, I'm only a little bit crazy. I was calling to see if you wanted to come to the beach with me. You know, just me and you."  
"When?"  
"Well, how about tonight?"  
I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head.  
"Are you crazy?!" I exclaimed.  
"Oh, come on, babydoll! We hardly ever get to spend time together; I promise I'll make it worth the missed sleep."  
I grinned.  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"Well, why don't you get out of the bed and come find out?"  
You had me at the beach within the next hour.  
Only you had the power to get me out of the bed after I had already been sleeping.  
And you _did_ make the trip worthwhile.  
We stripped behind some huge rocks and went out into the water, just messing around for hours underneath the moonlight. God, you were beautiful underneath that silver-blue moonlight. It poured over your golden skin perfectly, like cream into coffee. The moonlight seemed to actually sink into your skin, because I could look at you for days afterwards and you seemed to still have the soft silver glow around you, like an aura. And you said I was beautiful, too. So it was only natural that it was our first time making love.  
We had never had sex. We hinted around at it a lot, always teasing each other about it, but I guess we were just scared. At least, until that night, when something got into you and you decided that that night would be _the_ night. Not that I didn't like it, of course. It was beautiful. I loved it. I loved _you_. Not that you care anymore.  
As I sit here in the empty stands writing down all these thoughts, I think about all the times we had to tag together in matches. We always knew what the other was going to do next, like a sixth sense about each other. And it came in handy a lot of the time, too. I remember the first time we won the Tag Team Championships. You were so happy, and I was happy just to see that you had reached your dream.  
"Can you believe it, Chrissy?! We actually won the belts!"  
"I know! That is so awesome!"  
And then you dropped your belt and hugged me, almost squeezed my guts out. We hadn't told anyone about us, but people suspected it even though we denied. I suppose it was a little obvious; the protectiveness of one another during matches and backstage, the times we would colour coordinate our night's tights and shirts to match each other _almost_ perfectly. I guess the biggest giveaway was our reluctance of leaving each other and how, when we were around each other, no air could pass through the space between us, we stood so close together. Another flirtacious action that you weren't ever ashamed of was the fact that when I was bending over to get something, you would kick or punch me in the ass as hard as you could, most of the time sending me to the floor and then taking my hand to help me up, all the while grinning like a maniac. And then I would call you a meanie and not speak to you for a whole five minutes... five minutes seemed like forever then, but it seems like _eternity_ now. I have absolutely no way to pass the time without you.  
What am I going to do with _me_?  
Am I just going to sit here and write in this God forsaken journal for the rest of my life; hiding in the stands where you can't see me but I can see you oh-so-perfectly?  
Damn, I just remembered, I left my gym bag down in the sixth row when I was watching the Hardyz practicing. I'll have to go down and get it, but I'll wait until after you leave the ring area. I can't face you.  
I remember how we used to take trips to Madison Square Garden and watch the hockey games there. Our first game together was New York Rangers versus Toronto Maple Leafs, at home for the Rangers, so chances of finding any other Leafs fans were slim to none.  
So it was just us, sitting in the vast field of red and blue coloured jerseys were two blondes in _white_ and blue coloured jerseys.  
But it was okay, because I was with you.  
At least, it _was_ okay, until you spilled a huge cup of Coca-Cola on my lap. Then we had to go home because I was complaining about how my pants were soaked and the fact that they were my favourite jeans. We watched the rest of the game on TV, because you can always find a hockey game on some channel in Canada. Guaranteed. At least, I _think_ it was the rest of the game we were at, but I don't know, I was too busy being in your arms.  
Damn you for being a patriotic Canadian and watching hockey like it was a fucking religious occurance, though (Author's Note: _Isn't_ it a religious occurance, Christian?).  
On our one-year anniversary, was the Stanley Cup Tournament.  
I think that was the biggest argument we've ever had in our entire times of knowing each other.  
But in the end I came to accept your Church of Hockey, amen to your holy lord, the Leafs.  
And the Oilers.  
And the Canadiens.  
And God knows how many other teams...  
Oh yeah, and your Colorado Avalanche. Why you liked them, I'll never know. Mabye you're from Colorado deep down in your heart.  
But no, you can't be, after all, hockey games are Religious Ceremonies and the Stanley Cup is like Christmas for you, right?  
Oh, and our other favourite place to go... Paramount's Canada's Wonderland.  
Wonderland _so_ reeks of awesomeness.  
At least, it did when you took me there. Now it's just another place where I feel like breaking down in the middle of the walkways. Believe me, I've tried.  
I went there in hopes of having some fun, to get you off my mind.  
It just made it hurt more.  
So score one for you, zero for me. You did your damage to me, tore my heart into pieces. I'll never be able to go back to Wonderland again.  
Or the beach.  
And it hurts bad enough even coming to work, knowing that I _will_ definately see you.  
I guess that was one of the terms in our "separation": You keep the places, I keep the heartache.  
Canadians don't say "eh."  
Remember that? I do. You would say it every time one of the Canadians in the WWF would say it. It was corny at the time, but now I think I would cry if I heard it. The reminder of you would be too strong to handle. So, I stay up here in the skybox, watching you from down below.  
My pen is running out of ink. Just my luck.  
My only other pen is in my gym bag... I'll have to go get it.  
But I'm taking my journal with me, just in case anyone comes in here and decides to read it. Then our secret would be blown. And I just might get brave and sit down there, right in front of you. I hope I can show you that I have the strength to face you... even though I don't.  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  
Jason opens the door of the skybox and begins the trip through the rows of seats and stairways, not looking at his former lover a single time before going back to his old seat from earlier that morning, only to find his gym bag missing. He looks around for a few minutes only to realize that it had somehow made its way to the inside of the farthest turnbuckle. 'Oh man, I don't wanna go over there...' he thought, seeing his ex and Chris Jericho conversing only feet away in what looked to be a serious conversation. He was shaking when he finally decided to go over there. He climbed over the black audience barrier and began walking towards the corner, and took his bag, starting up the ramp before feeling someone tap on his shoulder. He turned around, and almost dropped his bag. It was _him_. He said his name, then looked down the ramp to Chris Jericho, who was trying on the championship belt of Jason's former lover.  
"What are you-"  
But Jason was cut off by a pair of warm lips pressed to his own. He thought he was going to die of shock.  
"What are you doing?" Jason said.  
"I gave up the belt. I broke up with Chris. Nothing can make me happy anymore. Except you."  
Jason inhaled deeply.  
"Please forgive me," the man in front of him said.  
"Are you serious? You gave up the belt, and broke up with Chris, for me?"  
"I told you before, you were the only one for me. You're the only one that can make me happy, and I'm so sorry, Jay-Jay. Please forgive me. I wanna make you happy again."  
It didn't take Jason five seconds to answer.  
"Apology accepted."  
Jay reached up on his tiptoes and kissed the tall man gently, before being lifted off the ground. He was smiling the entire time as his refound lover carried him up the ramp and into the backstage area.  
Before they went into the entrance, the taller man stopped.  
"I love you, Jason."  
"I love you, too, Adam."  
And then Adam carried Jay backstage.  


   [1]: mailto:TrophyBoyAlwayz@aol.com



End file.
